


Anchor Me

by JailynnW



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Dreams, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Guidance, History Repeats, It's a little more than that, Jaime and Cersei are together at the beginning, Jaime finds his way, Love, POV Jaime Lannister, Parallel Lives, Sibling Incest, True Love, and then they don't, changing timeline, not cersei friendly, sorry but it's part of the story, things happen the same, was supposed to be a one shot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:54:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25920907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JailynnW/pseuds/JailynnW
Summary: Prompts I used to write this:You give out pieces of yourself to people but never let them see the whole picture. I have seen it. I know who you are.I am the Queen.And yet you’re still not enoughDirt and leaves tangled in my hair as he pushed me to the ground. He pressed his hand over my mouth and whispered, “Hush or they’ll hear you.”I’ve never been so terrified of death, until he set his sights on you.Jaime knows that Cersei has gone Mad but can he really break free from her and this life? He needs guidance. He needs the one woman that showed him honor was possible. He needs his anchor to bring him back to himself.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister & Brienne of Tarth, Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 5
Kudos: 45





	1. Green Fire and Dragon Breath

**Author's Note:**

> This story's timeline is not like the show. Things happen out of order so I can get to where I need to go. I hope you will bear with me as I change things around. This has been a story I've been working on for a while. It's based on some writing prompts I found that I absolutely loved. I really hope you enjoy the story! Thank you for taking the time to read it!

_You give out pieces of yourself to people but never let them see the whole picture. I have seen it. I know who you are._

_I am the Queen.  
And yet you’re still not enough_

_Dirt and leaves tangled in my hair as he pushed me to the ground. He pressed his hand over my mouth and whispered, “Hush or they’ll hear you.”_

_I’ve never been so terrified of death, until he set his sights on you._

________________________________

[ ](https://imgur.com/g4BEoPL)

Jaime sits in the dark as the residents of King’s Landing welcome their new Queen. Cersei has gotten all she wanted. She has taken it from the cold hands of their son and wears the crown without a tear being shed for their boy. Her face, the one he thought so beautiful, is chilling to look at now. Gone is the softness of the woman he thought he knew, replacing it is the hardness of the woman she became. Mayhaps, she was always like that. Jaime has been a fool more than once, mayhaps he has always been.

A fool for love. A fool for her. Florian the fool- Jaime the Kingslayer. Knights that were stupid for women. At least Florian had fallen for a Maiden worthy of love, Jaime had sacrificed all for one that wishes to please only herself. He stands from his seat at the window and paces the room. Self reflection has never been his favorite act. It only leads to inconvenient truths. It is best to not think too much about what he has done… what _she_ has done… what they have done.

He stops mid step as the door to his chamber opens and the woman of his thoughts stands before him. Jaime looks at her. Stares at her. She smirks and pushes the door shut behind her. Her movements are sure and decisive. She knows what she wants. _He_ knows what she wants. Jaime doesn’t move towards her. He stands still, waiting for the storm of lust to crash over him… 

He feels relief as his body stays as still as his mind. He does not crave this version of his lover. He does not ache to be inside her. She walks over to him, grabbing the back of his head and pulling his mouth to hers. Force and control guide her, she is the Queen taking her spoils. He kisses her back on instinct. A habit born from years of want and desire. His lips move as his hands do, but his mind is gone. 

Cersei yanks his clothes from his body, he takes hers. The routine is set. This is them. The golden twins of House Lannister taking each other in secret. She moans, he grunts. His body knows what to do. Muscles trained by her to give her the most pleasure. He thrusts and pushes. He swallows her screams as she taught him. He holds in his own groans of release. He touches her, looks down at her and feels shame. He has never experienced discontent while with her before. He has only ever felt a burning love. The act of fucking is nothing but moving bodies. The end comes without the feeling of completion he is used to feeling. Jaime feels empty.

Her cat-like green eyes settle. The passion for him is gone and her breathing under control. Cersei arches her brow, rolls her tongue across her perfect lips and narrows her eyes at him. The cold woman returning, heat seeping from her quickly. She pushes him off of her and sits up. He does the same, following her lead, as before, as always. Disgust eats away at him. A voice tells him to stop falling in line like a soldier and be a leader for once. He presses that voice to the back of his mind, awaiting his next order.

“You will take your place as my Lord Commander,” Cersei starts. Jaime feels the cold build in his veins, transported back in time to another bed and another request. “You will be my sword when I need it. You will keep me and my secrets safe. You will do as I ask without question.”

 _Burn them!_ A madman once told him. _Bring me your father’s head!_ He swallows the bile crawling up his throat. _Wildfire,_ the mad king cackled. Burn them all! Ash will remain for the one that wishes to take from me!

A green blaze flashes in his mind. Burning innocents. Burning enemies. Cersei getting the crown placed on her head. The voice of the madman changes and morphs. He shudders and grabs the fur from the bed to cover himself.

“You will also give me another babe,” she continues casually. “I must have an heir. Father was right about that. We have to survive. This family has to survive and thrive. We are the lions, we will not be taken over by sheep.”

Jaime breaths in and out as slowly as he can. He locks his feelings away and stares into the madness, the blackness, in his twins eyes. She smiles, satisfied. Her demeanor is at ease. She does not look broken or shattered. She appears fine. No remorse for the child that took his own life to escape the one she created. Cersei wants another to replace the one that failed her. 

Weak- she thought him weak. Tommen, his sweet boy, did not do as she wanted. He followed his heart to another- he was his father’s son- and chose love over loyalty. Jaime wishes he had not given that trait to his boy. Another, any other, would have been better- mayhaps he would still be breathing. 

Cersei continues to talk but he cannot hear the words. The past he has fought to escape and his present mix. He closes his eyes, trying to find a place to rest. Blue eyes appear. Sapphires sparkling in the dark. Quiet and calm, urging him to find the knight he once was- that he could be. Brienne’s rough hands hold his real one and fake one. She is pulling the tide of emotions back, as the moon pulls back the tide of the ocean. _Still. Be still._ She mouths the words. 

He opens his eyes back up and looks at Cersei. She returns his gaze, watching for his reaction. Jaime thinks about everything, about all his dreams and all his fears. This was what he has always wanted. Cersei in his bed. Cersei asking him to be by her side. _You will still be her secret. She will never claim you in public. She will take another. She will bind you to her and take another. You will always be her fool._

Bitter words that burned his mind. He pushes them away as he pushes his feelings. She is here now. She is looking at him and waiting. She is not already clothing herself in her gown as she gets ready to leave him behind. Cersei is here. That is more than he has had before.

“People will talk,” he says. “If you become pregnant by my seed, who will you claim as the father this time?”

“You, of course,” she climbs over him, pulling the fur away as she does. “You will father this child. And I will proudly tell the seven kingdoms that my babe is yours. Us, Jaime, it is always going to be us." She leans over him and bites his chest hard as she pushes herself on his half hard cock again. He tilts his head back and his teeth clamp down on his lip at the vicious mark she left on him. She rides him roughly, clawing and slapping her hands down on his body as the passion claims her. “Fuck, Jaime, fuck me harder.”

Jaime does as he is told- his mind once again blank. He closes his eyes. His body does the rest.

*****

Jaime moves into the castle with confidence. HighGarden and all its wealth belongs to his Queen now. He fingers the poison in his hand. The last of the Tyrells would be meeting her family, long dead, this day. Olenna looks up when he enters her solar. The elderly woman barely shows a flicker of surprise. Her hands resting on her cane handle, not gripping or dropping it terror. Jaime sits across from her and she smirks.

She has a quietness about her that unsettles him. He is used to eyes welling up with tears or words babbling out, begging for mercy. Olenna does nothing. She just talks to him. Asks him about his strategy. 

“It was the one Robb used,” he admits. “The reason I got captured. The young wolf surprised me. I learned from his moves against me and used them against your side.”

She eyes the vial in his hand. “Is that for me?”

“Yes,” he looks at it, rolls it between his fingers. 

“Well it hurt?” 

“No,” he opens the bottle and pour it into a goblet then pours wine to fill the glass. “I made sure of that.” Jaime extends his arm out to her.

“Good,” the older woman takes the goblet and drains the contents quickly. “I do not want to be like your son.” Jaime starts at the words. “I didn’t know what would happen. How the poison would work… I just wanted it to be quick. His death was much harsher than I thought it would be.” She looks up at him as he stands. “Tell Cersei it was me. I want her to know. I want her to understand.”

He wants to strike out, quick and fast. She took his _son_ from him. _She took a monster away from her granddaughter and the Seven Kingdoms_ Brienne’s voice calmly whispered. Olenna didn’t blink after her confession. He didn’t speak. He stays still and watches the poison work. Her milky blue eyes close and her breathing stops. Jaime walks over to the body, his stomach twisting. She’s gone. Cersei will have her gold, Tyrion will be cleared of the crime of murdering her son and he will stand in place at her side.

He leaves the room to rejoin his men. He has a mission to complete.

*****

The convoy of wagons and soldiers gather under the cover of night, setting up camp to start again at first light. Jaime feels like a caged animal, wounded and weak. Olenna’s confession sitting in his mind, like she sat at the table. He did not relish telling Cersei. She had not been keen on him making the Lady of Thorns death an easy one and that was before the revelation.

He leans back in his chair and stares out at the soldiers just beyond his tent. The men worked and rested and ate. Jaime wishes he could do any one of those things. His mind is too full to focus on a task, his body is too tense to sleep, and his stomach is too jumpy to eat, so he does nothing. He gets up from his chair and paces the length of his tent. His hand flexes at his side, opening and closing in anxious thought. On his fifth turn he notices a shadow at his tent and turns fully towards it.

Bronn arches a brow and drinks deeply from his flagon. “Wearing a hole in your fancy fur floor?”

“I have much to plan,” Jaime says, ignoring the question. “What do you want?”

“I want assurances I am on the right side of this shit,” he steps into the tent and takes the seat Jaime just relinquished. “I want your word I will get my castle and my gold.”

“You doubt the Lannister’s now,” he smirks, “A little late to be worried about your place. The war is upon us. You have selected your side already.”

“Men switch alliances all the time,” Bronn responds. “I am not such a loyal man that I will back a losing side. I want what is mine. One Lannister will pay his debt to me… whether it’s you or the dwarf matters not.”

His words should make him angry. Another one that might turn and push a sword through his shoulder blades, if he is not given what he wants. Another person without loyalty to watch, but it actually gives him peace of mind. He knows what Bronn is. He is a sellsword, not a friend with breakable faithfulness. The truth is in his corruption. He does not claim to be devoted to the Lannisters. His only liege is to the gold and whoever provides it.

Oddly, Jaime respects him more for that than many of the bannermen that pledged themselves to his family. Banners fall and new ones can be put up. Men can be disloyal for a lot less than a castle and cache of coin. 

“You will have your spoils,” he comments. “You will get all you have earned once the Queen has her riches in her hands and the false queen is defeated.”

Bronn stands and walks over to Jaime, drinking deeply from his flagon again. The smell of strong wine whiffing over to Jaime as he breathes out his words, “And which Queen is the false one? The one that rides dragons and wants to take what was taken from her? Or the one that took the crown off the broken skull of her son without care or tears?” Jaime uses all his skill and training not to react but he feels the cut delivered by the other man. “Not that I care, mind you. As I have stated, I just want what is mine.”

He exits the tent and Jaime closes the flap behind him. He stews over the words. Which Queen is the rightful one? Jaime knows which side he will choose- which side he has already chosen. He lays down on the cot and stares up at the crimson cloth over his head. He needs to get sleep. The ride back to King’s Landing is long and he knows, with that much gold and supplies, it will be dangerous. Sharpness is key. 

He closes his eyes, once again trying to settle his mind. He knows what will help. _Her_. Her blue eyes that have comforted him before when his thoughts were too heavy to carry alone. She’ll come to him. She always does in the quiet moments. When the chaos around him stops and all that’s left is the ghosts of his crimes to keep him company. That’s when she comes. She’ll stand at his side all strength and righteousness and banish the worst of his enemies away. Brienne of Tarth will come to him… she always does. 

His breathing evens out and his body feels heavy as sleep starts to claim him. 

_The meadow is filled with wildflowers that brush against his legs as he walks out of the woods. Crickets chirp a summer song and the moon hangs large to light his path. He doesn’t need to be guided, he is keenly aware of where he needs to be. There is a creek cutting through the clearing, an oasis offering travelers a place to clean their weary bodies. She sits there, motionless on a large rock. Her blue armor reflects the cool light from the night sky._

_Brienne waits for him to come closer, for the distance between them to shorten before she stands gracefully to meet him. His green eyes search out his sword on her hip. Its gold hilt and red ruby eyes relax him further. He cannot physically protect her, but his blade can and that gives him a moment of peace._

_“Wench,” he breaths the word, half in admiration and half in longing. “You are lost in these woods. Alone without the squire I have given you to watch your back. How foolish of you to wander into the forest guided only by your stubborn honor.”_

_Her thick lips twist and her endless blue eyes narrow, “I see not another with you, Ser Jaime. How can I be foolish to enter these woods without someone to follow me, but you see it as acceptable for you?”_

_“I have an army at my back,” he walks closer, circling her, needing to see her- longing to touch her. “Men will come at my call. Scouts are already close and coming closer. I am not alone.”_

_“Aren’t you?” she asks softly. “Isn’t that why you summon me?” He shudders, dropping his gaze from her eyes. “I am not here, Ser Jaime. I am…”_

_“Gone from me,” he sits on the rock she had been on when he arrived. “Surrounded by wolves and fish and wildlings.”_

_“I am fulfilling my oath,” she straightens. “To you and Lady Catelyn.”_

_“Always faithful in your duty,” he says, trying to sound sardonic but instead sounding more than a little fond. “Do you never wish to break from the chains of your oaths? Come wench!” He stands from the rock and moves over to her. “Be as free as I am.” He grins at her._

_She tilts her head, her hair brushing against her forehead, “How can one be free when one still can not choose for themselves?”_

_“I have made my own choices,” he growls, taking a step into her space. “I lay with the Queen. I am filling her with my seed every night,” he aims his words at her, sharp jabs, to shock her into action. He wants her to move and stop being so fucking _still_. “She wishes me to plant a babe in her belly and I want that as well. A child that will know me as their father.”_

_“I am not here to listen to these claims of freedom,” she doesn’t raise her voice, she remains steady, “So who are you trying to sway with them?” She looks into his eyes then moves to leave the clearing, his right hand grabs her. She glances at the hand both of them know should not be there. Her gaze returns to his. “If you have all you want, Ser Jaime, why do I meet you in this clearing? Why is it not the woman you lay with that brings you comfort? Why is it not visions of a family, golden and perfect, that settles your mind?” He drops his hand from her arm. “Good night, Ser Jaime.”_

_His breath leaves him in a whoosh. He doesn’t want her to leave him alone in the dark. The light of the harvest moon seems to follow her and leaves only darkness as his friend. Sounds start building around him: hooves of horses, howl of wolves, snarls of creatures he does not recognize. He shivers._

_“Brienne!” He calls to her back._

_She turns from the woods to look at him. “Yes, ser Jaime…”_

_“Stay Lady Brienne,” he moves towards the thick woods, motioning with his hand at the trees. “Do you not hear the beasts coming? Are you not worried at what awaits you? Let me walk with you to protect you.”_

_“I do not fear the animals beyond the trees,” she takes a step toward him. “It is not me that they crave.” He shudders at another howl, another snarl and more thundering hooves hitting the ground- closer, it’s so close. Brienne holds out her large hand to him, “Ser Jaime,” her voice is soft even as the noises around them grow. “We can leave this clearing together. All you have to do is take my hand. All you have to do is walk with me. Together we can battle the enemies that are gathering. Together we can truly free you.”_

_Jaime looks longingly at her hand. He lifts his right one to place it in hers, the appendage crumbles from his body, falling and disintegrating, leaving only the stump. Brienne does not shy away, she keeps her hand out to him, even extending it further. He swallows and looks into her eyes._

_“Lady Brienne…”_

Jaime sits up in his cot. His heart pounding and his stomach falling to his feet. He looks at his hand, or where his hand should be, and lets out a labored breath. The ugly scars, withered and puckered skin, meet his eyes. Swallowing deeply he stands from his cot on uneasy legs.The sounds and feelings from his dream weigh on his mind. Brienne’s steady presence comes back and he wishes it was not only in his mind. 

Quietly, and only to himself, he admits he misses her. She was a light guiding him and now he is in need of that more than ever. He knows that he is being dense, she is much younger than him- he should know more- but still he looks to Brienne. Walking to the bowl in the corner his squire had filled with water, he splashes some on his face. The sounds of camp sneak into his tent, men have already begun to prepare for the trip ahead of them. He rolls his shoulders, working out the knots and pains. He grabs his golden hand with a grimace. 

He just finished buckling the heavy adornment when Bronn enters the tent. Jaime looks up at the sellsword with a raised eyebrow. “Just checking to make sure you were up,” he answers the unspoken question. “We are ready to move. Shake your cock.”

Jaime tilts his head in exasperation. “I will be out in a moment. Leave me.”

Bronn smirks, “As you wish.”

He exits with a flourish that has Jaime rolling his eyes. The taking down of the encampment is done swiftly and practiced ease. The journey toward King’s Landing is slow and leaves him too much time to think. His thoughts are troubling and full of his dream Brienne asking him why he does not seek Cersei but her when at the brink. He knows why of course. Deep down he knows all. His musings get interrupted by a screeching sound in the distance. His throat closes as a winged beast flies over the horizon. 

His heart plummets to his knees watching his men get slaughtered by the hordes of Dothraki horse soldiers. He engages and fights, killing some, wounding others. The countryside fills with blood and death, fire blazes from the mouth of a creature none had seen. Steel crashes against steel. Clanging over the screams of the dying and the naying of the horses. Hooves pound against the earth sounding like the loudest storm he had ever heard. Jaime feels his blood run cold at all he is witnessing. Suddenly the beast falls from the sky, landing a ways away. He looks over at Bronn, standing by the Scorpion. Qyburn’s weapon did not kill the dragon, but wounded him. Glancing at the ground, his eyes can see nothing but the blood of good men and a spear.

He does not think, he does not let his fear grip him. He acts, as he has always done. He plucks the wooden weapon from the body it impaled and kicks his horse into action. Adrenaline rushes through him. He will kill or die. Nothing in between. Death will come to a beast or man. One will not live past this moment. The closer he gets to his target, the more his blood rushes. It’s a single focus. He sees nothing but his goal, he bends down, clamping his legs around his horse and pushes. 

The dragon queen turns, her violet eyes widen. Jaime grits his teeth. Just like her father! Burn them all. Burn it down. Madness lights up the fire in all of them. Targaryen’s were all hungry for fire and blood. The dragon, huge and deadly, pushes his head around his mother. His mouth opening. Red and heat gather, Jaime can feel it. Knows instinctively what it means. 

Burn.

Them.

All.

The enemy will be ash. The people will be bones in his teeth. 

His body jerks and he falls a moment before heat blazes over him. He sees his horse- his honor- go up in flames. Death comes for a beast and he slips away into a lake. He watches the water engulf him. His armor weighing him down. Death comes for a man...

*****

Jaime breaks the surface with a gasp and Bronn’s arm around his middle. The sun has never been so bright, the beating of his heart has never been so strong to him. He takes in gulps of air, coughing as it fills his lungs. The scent of burning flesh and cargo permeates the breeze. Jaime recoils and tries to hold his breath only to begin coughing harder and gulping in more air. Bronn pulls him on the shoreline, the gruff man glaring at him as they come to rest.

“Fucker,” he hisses at Jaime. “You don’t get to kill yourself. That fucking dragon doesn’t get to kill you. Only _I_ get to kill you.” 

He doesn’t look at the man next to him. He can’t. He shouldn’t be alive. Once again he should have died on the battlefield with his men and he was spared. Anger builds inside of him, watching the caravan burn in front of his eyes. So many will be weeping tonight. Children will grow without fathers, wives will be without husbands… pointless death at the hands of a woman that craves power. 

_Just like your sister_ a little voice reminds him. _She burns her enemies as well._

“We need to get the gold that is untouched to King’s Landing,” his voice is raw from coughing and nearly drowning. “Queen Cersei will need to build her army back up.”

“Her army,” Bronn repeats. Jaime finally looks away from the horror. “Aye. Her army is burning, “ Jaime grimaces. “Let’s hope gold is all they want for their kin.” His brown eyes lock on Jaime’s green ones. “Because dragons will always win against a sword.”

The truth of those words chill him to the bones.

*****


	2. This Isn't You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Is this all that the old bitch had,” she clasps her hands in front of her. “And here I thought the Reach was rich beyond measure.” She turns her attention to him, her golden eyebrow arching in accusation. “Please dear brother enlighten me.”_
> 
> _Jaime feels the ice in her tone as she lays the blame at his feet. “We were attacked by the Dothraki and the dragon qu-” Cersei narrows her eyes at him, her cheeks reddening and her lips thinning even more. He will pay for the slip. She will not go easy on him for calling the other woman queen. Even if he did not fully say the word. “She rides a dragon and the beast is powerful.” He finishes._

[ ](https://imgur.com/g4BEoPL)

* * *

Cersei purses her lips as she surveys the spoils of war his men bring in. Her green eyes sharpen as the pile stops growing. She swiftly locks her gaze on his and Jaime knows this displeases her. Her lips thin, her hand grip the armrests of the Iron Throne. He could see the flicker of pain as the sword edges bit into her palms. She stands from the throne and goes over the chests of gold, her eyes catching his as she passes. 

“Is this all that the old bitch had,” she clasps her hands in front of her. “And here I thought the Reach was rich beyond measure.” She turns her attention to him, her golden eyebrow arching in accusation. “Please dear brother enlighten me.”

Jaime feels the ice in her tone as she lays the blame at his feet. “We were attacked by the Dothraki and the dragon qu-” Cersei narrows her eyes at him, her cheeks reddening and her lips thinning even more. He will pay for the slip. She will not go easy on him for calling the other woman queen. Even if he did not fully say the word. “She rides a dragon and the beast is powerful.” He finishes. 

“Our traitor of a brother is on her side,” her words were flippant, the meaning is not. Tyrion would die. Cersei has plans to string him up. She snaps her head back around to look at the chests again. “This will pay back the Iron Bank.” She waves her hand at the soldiers. “Leave.” Bowing deeply, his men do as they are told. Jaime starts to follow. He wants to remove his armor and get clean. The journey and the ordeal weighing on him as heavily as the metal that covers him. “I did not excuse you, Lord Commander.” Her tone is as sharp as Widow’s Wail. Cersei advances on him. “You dare call her queen in my presence? In front of _my_ army?” She reaches out, her nails biting into the soft skin of his throat. He doesn’t flinch, but he glares at her. His body priming for a fight, recognizing the threat. She smirks, “You won’t hurt me.” She speaks with confidence. “You love me. You are _mine_ , Jaime. Never forget that.”

He pulls away from her, her nails scrape his neck, pulling his skin. “I am sworn to protect you, sweet sister.”

“You made sure she drank the poison?” Cersei asks moving back to sit on the throne.

“The Lady of Thorns is dead,” he replies. He looks up at her from his place. “She told me who killed Joffrey before the poison took her.”

His sister’s back straightens at his words, “Tyrion killed my son. My sweet boy!”

“Lady Olenna did,” he corrects. “She killed him so that her granddaughter would not be tied to him. She killed him to ensure he did not harm Margaery.”

Cersei’s face contorts in rage. “I should have burned her alive. I should have gutted her and made her die slowly!” She stares at him hard. “You let her get away with killing _my_ son. _You_ should have cut her tongue out and fed it to her! Father would have made her pay!” She lunges off the throne, her lion claws coming for his neck again. “You have _failed_ me! You have failed the Lannister house.” Her hands try to clamp around his throat but he is taller and strong and stops her with his hands around her wrists. “I should have you hung as a traitor!”

“A traitor?” he laughs, bitter and angry. “I have done all you wished of me. She did die! She will never take another breath against you or our family. Do you really believe father did not know that she might have had a hand in killing Joffrey? Do you really think he was blind to Olenna? He was probably relieved- as was the kingdom. Joffrey was an evil cunt-” 

She pulls free from his grasp and slaps him hard across the face. The sting does not settle long before another slap and another. She keeps moving, coloring his face in violence. Jaime growls, gripping her wrists again- this time tightly. Their eyes meet. Flashing green orbs, neither backing down. He can feel her breath hot against the side of his neck where some blood from her nails was still sliding. 

“Let go of me,” she hisses. He tightens his hold, watching her eyes widen before finally releasing her. “I should have you hung from your cock.”

He smirks even as his stomach drops. He leans close to whisper in her ear. “Then you would not get to enjoy it, sweet sister.”

“Get out of my sight!” she snarls at him. 

Jaime bows in mock respect then turns and walks out of the throne room. He knows that he will have to deal with her anger at him being insolent but he didn’t care at the moment. He has one operative in mind. He wants to escape this place… but he has no idea where to go.

*****

It isn’t a surprise that Cersei shows up in his bed chamber that night. Fucking and fighting- it’s all the same to them. She climbed over him while he lay on the bed. Her clothes are nothing but a heap on the floor, forgotten in her desire to remind him where his place was. She didn’t try to kiss him. This isn’t about love and Jaime is more than aware of that.

This is part of his duty- outline that first night. He is to give her a golden haired heir. One that would be hers to mold without another’s touch. He looks up into her eyes and sees nothing but hollow greed. His sweet sister, the woman he has always loved and reached for, is cold as the wall that the Night’s Watch guarded. 

He isn’t much warmer. His thoughts were far from the golden Queen riding his cock. Instead of green eyes and hair the color of his, he saw fierce blue and strands the shade of straw. 

The moment stretched out. It was like being back in the white cloak, standing by the door listening to the sounds of a woman trying hard not to lose her mind. Jaime had taught himself how to fall away and disappear in those horrible nights. Then he had reached out for Cersei. He had remembered the feel of her body, the touch of her lips, their promises to each other while standing there doing nothing to help the Queen in her most desperate hour.

Now he is the one that is being used. He is merely a pawn in Cersei’s plan for domination. He is once again falling into himself to escape his reality. The thought is distressing and he stops moving under her. He looks up into her face and is confronted with a truth he did not want to realize. He has always been good at convincing himself of things. His view of the world was so shaped by being able to defend his actions, no matter what those actions were. He always had a direction. A north star. A reason. _Cersei_.

Now it is that single light that is causing him to question himself once again. He gazes on her, trying to find that part of her that soothed his mind since he was a lad… Jaime is disheartened to find nothing. Cersei looks down on his as she moves, her hips pounding into his, her green eyes unfocused. Her perfect lips curling up in victory. She is finally what she always wanted to be- in control. She is fucking him. He is the useless body to be taken and abused. She is the man wielding her cunt as if it is a cock. 

Jaime breathes in, feeling her shake and come. Her inner walls grip him and his body reacts to the sensation. He climaxes, filling her with his seed. She slaps her hands on his chest, calling out her pleasure. She has won yet again. Conqueror of all things- including her twin.

His twin slides to the side of him, her face once again a mask of coolness. She clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth and eyes him. “You displeased me with not bringing more gold back.”

“I did not calculate for a dragon to appear and kill my men,” he replies as he covers them in a blanket. The conversation sounding evening chiller after fucking only moments before. “The Dothraki enjoy killing and don’t fear death. They embrace it. To beat them we will need more forces. The Lannister army is not enough and we do not have many allies left.”

Cersei smiles. “Yes,” she says. “I’m taking care of that. The gold from that bitch was only the first part of my plan…”

He notices that she doesn’t say anything else after and he doesn’t push her to explain. With all the death and damage he has experienced, he thinks that it is best he does not know. He just wants to sleep. He wants to escape and find peace.

*****

_“This isn’t you,” Brienne looks over at him from the rock she is sitting on. Jaime glances around him at the woods they are standing in and feels a wave of something rush over him. “You are not cruel like her. You need to get away before she pulls you down.”_

_Her quiet voice warms him even as her words tear him astunder. “She is my twin.”_

_“She is your death.”_

_He shrugs, “I have never feared the Stranger coming to take my hand.” He comes to stand before her and for a moment gets swallowed up in her endless sapphire eyes. “Cersei and I came into this wretched world together- we will leave the same.”_

_Brienne tilts her head to the right. Quietly watching him. He shifts under her inspection. “I have asked you before, if Cersei is your heart’s desire, why is it I that meets you in your dreams? I will ask you again. If you are sure in your place at her side, why am I here now?”_

_“You-” he stops. He can’t answer the question. The answer is not one he is ready to find yet. It seems too precious to tarnish by bringing it into the light. Even in his own dream. “You are my friend. You have my sword.”_

_“Aye,” she nods, standing up and meeting his eyes. “I do have your sword and I wield it in protection of the Starks. I stand at the side of your enemies.” A pain started building inside of him. It is true, they were on opposite sides. The words they said in the tent at River Run come back to haunt him. If a war were to start between their armies- they would have to fight each other. Blood would be spilt on the ground and the thought of it being hers causes him to wither inside. “I don’t want to fight you, Ser Jaime.”_

_He smiles with less cheer than he wants. “Even in my dream, you still call me by the title of Ser.”_

_“What other title is there?” She lifts her hand, nearly brushing his cheek with her finger tips. “You are an honorable knight, Ser Jaime. You have earned that respect.”_

_“Not many would agree with you,” Jaime breathes out. “Especially those that would fight at your side.”_

_“They only see pieces of you, Ser Jaime,” she finally caresses his face and he closes his eyes to enjoy the light touch. Her fingers are not smooth, but the calluses feel good to him. He wants those hands all over him. Soft and strong… “You have only shown them reasons to hate you. But I know you. I know the pieces you don’t show.” Her hand drops from his face and he immediately mourns the loss of her touch. “I must go. The dawn is approaching.” He opens his eyes in time to watch her walk away from him._

_“I don’t want to fight you, Lady Brienne.” Jaime calls to her._

_She turns back and says, “You don’t have to.” He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. She waits a moment longer, then nods her head. “Goodbye, Ser Jaime.”_

_A snap of fear hits him and he rages out, “What would you have me do?”_

_Jaime can’t have her leave. He needed her to stay and keep him still. The darkness is too deep for him to be alone. He has been alone for so long. Alone as the Kingslayer, sister fucker, last of the honorable Kingsguard. He didn’t want to stand by himself any longer._

_The female warrior turns to him. Her blue eyes are sad. Her big lips stay shut. She doesn’t tell him what he already knows. Brienne just touches the sword at her hip. His sword. The lion- of gold and ruby. His stomach clenches. She won’t say the words. He knows she won’t. Brienne of Tarth is the only one that trusts him to come to the answer on his own._

_No easy way out. He resents her for that faith. He wishes to hold her because of it. She holds his gaze a moment longer then nods her head in a bow._

_He watches her walk into the dense woods and feels the emptiness fill him up._

*****

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think... I would love to hear! Thank you again for reading!!!


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